


A Roll in the Hay

by Cheree_Cargill



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Barn, Consensual Sex, F/M, Rain, hay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheree_Cargill/pseuds/Cheree_Cargill
Summary: Caught in the midst of a violent storm while gathering samples, Spock and Christine cannot make it back to the shuttlecraft.  Instead they take shelter in a barn-like structure and must find a way to generate body heat while they wait out the long, cold night.  This is just a PWP story and a way to get them together in a compromising situation.
Relationships: Christine Chapel/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	A Roll in the Hay

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2021 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated NC17.

Spock and Christine dashed through the pelting rain and hail, trying to protect their heads from the lashing wind and icy pellets that drove into them like bullets. The storm had arisen quickly, lightning cracking overhead in the roiling clouds and thunder shaking the ground with each strike. They were too far from the shuttle when the deluge hit and Spock hoped that the rest of the landing party had made it to shelter.

For himself and the _Enterprise_ nurse, they had been gathering readings and biological samples on this sparsely inhabited world. There was a plant here that Dr. McCoy felt might be beneficial as a treatment for Avorsian flu. The inhabitants of this world were in a pre-warp, pastoral society and the landing party had taken care that their shuttlecraft had set down in an area far from any detectable farms or towns. There was a lot of domesticated fauna, however, and they had noticed that there were occasional barn-like structures located on the hills, made from native stone and probably used as protection for winter fodder and for the animals themselves.

It was toward one of these that the two people were running. Any shelter in a storm, Christine had said and Spock tended to agree. Both of them were drenched and cold by the time they ducked underneath the low doorway and into the sweet warmth of the fodder enclosure.

Out of the rain, they shook themselves off and looked around. There was a low roof and the structure was packed with fragrant hay nearly up to the rafters. On the other side of the room, several of the ovine-looking animals had wandered in. The rest that the two people had seen in the fields seemed too stupid to come in out of the rain, or perhaps they just didn't mind it. Their wooly coats appeared impervious to the climate and they were probably used to weathering any storm.

Spock pulled out his communicator and flipped it open. "Spock to Leslie," he said.

"Leslie here, Mr. Spock," came the crewman's voice back, the connection crackling with static. "Are you and Nurse Chapel okay?"

"We have obtained shelter but we are too far to reach the shuttle at present," the First Officer answered. "Are all other personnel accounted for?"

"Yes, sir. We're all pretty wet, but back inside the shuttle."

"Very good," Spock nodded. "Have you contacted the ship? What is their status?"

"Lt. Uhura says that the ion storm is preventing beam out at the moment and the expected duration is about 17 hours. There should be holes in the storm that will allow the shuttle to return, however."

"Then do so. Miss Chapel and I will beam aboard when the storm interference dies down. At present, however, there is no logic in remaining here and not being able to collect our samples. Report to Dr. McCoy when you are back aboard. He will want to begin analyzing those plants you have collected."

"Aye, sir," Leslie replied. "Will you two be okay?"

"Affirmative. There is no danger here except catching a chill from the lowered temperature and weather. We will attempt to stay dry until beam out is possible. Spock out."

He flipped the communicator closed and stuck it back onto the patch at the back of his pants waist.

"Well, that's just dandy," opined Christine, squeezing water out of her hair. Her upswept hairdo had come apart and was hanging around her face, dripping. Her uniform was soaked and dripping water around her boots, which squished with the certainty that there was water in them. "What do we do now?"

"As I said, stay here and wait until the storm abates." Spock pushed his bangs up to clear his face of the rainwater that was running down his face, then shook his head vigorously, slinging wetness everywhere. His clothing and boots were in the same shape as the nurse's.

She shivered. "I wish we could build a fire to dry off, but we'd burn this place to the ground in fifteen minutes."

"A slightly imprecise statement," the Vulcan replied, "but essentially true. We will have to do the best that we can. First, I suggest that we get out of these wet clothes and lay them on the hay to dry. The animals in this shelter are generating enough body heat that there is a small chance of the moisture in our clothing evaporating to some degree."

"And what are we going to wear in the meantime?" Christine protested. "We don't even have a blanket and I don't think standing here nearly naked is going to warm us up any."

"No, but burrowing into the hay might allow our own body heat to keep us warm."

" _Our_ body heat?" The nurse stared at him, disbelieving.

"I did not mean to suggest that we lie together and combine the warmth," Spock answered, his steady gaze pinning her with disapproval. "Although that would be a logical action. I assume that you would not be opposed to that."

"No, no, of course not," She looked down, then sighed and bent to pull off one of her boots and pour out the water in it, followed by the other. Then she opened the fastening seam on her uniform and shrugged out of it. Spock did essentially the same thing, emptying his boots then skinning his blue tunic over his head, leaving him clad in black pants and undershirt. The tough fabric of the Starfleet uniforms had a waterproofing element, but it would take some hours for them to dry at this temperature.

He tried not to watch the woman as she peeled off her wet tights and uniform shorts until she was clad only in her black underpants and breast support. Instead, Spock concentrated on doffing his trousers, undershirt and boot stockings, laying them all carefully out on the hay to dry. Christine did the same. They turned their boots upside down to allow any retained water to drain out. Then the two stood and peered at one another, Christine crossing her arms across her breasts.

"What now?" she asked, beginning to shiver.

The Vulcan turned and scooped out a long hollow in the hay, then gestured for the nurse to lie down. "After you, Miss Chapel." She hesitated then climbed in, snuggling in on her right side, still hugging herself. Spock pulled hay down over her then clambered over her until he was burrowed in at her back, pulling hay over himself as well.

For a while the two lay there, listening to the howl of the wind and clatter of the rain on the roof of the barn. A few more of the sheep-like animals wandered in and joined their pasture-mates. The odor of fresh hay and wet wool mingled, but the presence of the warm animal bodies didn't seem to offset the temperature of the enclosure as darkness fell. It was still late afternoon, but the gloomy, lightning-strewn storm clouds shut out the little bit of light left in the day. Thunder continued to roll and made the building tremble as it shook the ground.

"I'm still cold," Christine said after a while, hugging herself and trying to stop shaking. The hay rustled and Spock's firm warm body moved against her, his Vulcan heat pressing against her. He reached back and raked even more hay over them both until they were buried in a grassy cocoon.

"I regret that I am not able to generate more body heat to warm you," he murmured, sliding an arm across her mid-section and pulling her against him.

Christine chuckled deep in her throat. "Perhaps that's what we should do," she said. "Generate some body heat."

"And how should we do that?" he replied in his deep baritone, his mouth now close to her ear.

"I don't know. Use your imagination."

"I am, but what I am imagining is inappropriate."

"Then I suppose we should just snuggle and hope for the best."

For a while, they did just that as the wind pummeled the barn and thunder rumbled overhead. The interior temperature continued to drop as darkness fell completely and Christine found herself pushing back harder against Spock's warm body. He threw a leg over her own, passing along as much heat to her as he could, but he found himself growing colder as well. As he did, her earlier words about generating more body heat crept back into his mind and he found his body responding in an unexpected way.

The woman turned her head slightly to glance over her shoulder and said, "What are you poking me with?"

"I should think it would be obvious," he responded.

"Oh! Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes." His voice dropped to a soft whisper. "However, it is completely up to you, Christine."

"I'm surprised," she answered. "I didn't think you would be prepared to go that far."

"It is the only way I can think of to raise our body heat and stay warm throughout the night."

"So, there is no emotional commitment in this. It's just sex." Christine felt a pulse of offense, but decided that she could be as logical as he. Turning to face him, she slid her arm around his torso and could just barely make out his features close to hers.

"I'm not usually that kind of girl," she protested, peering into his dark eyes.

"What kind of girl?" He looked puzzled.

"The kind that goes for a roll in the hay – in this case literally – with just any man."

Spock's brows rose. "Am I just any man?" he inquired with a hint of humor in his voice.

"No … no, you're not," she answered. Lifting her face up invitingly, she waited and he did not disappointment her. His lips came down on hers for a long, languid kiss. They worked at the kiss for a long time, their tongues sparring and tasting one another.

During their growing mouth play, Spock reached behind her back and pulled the fabric fastening of her breast band apart, then worked the strapless garment loose. Pulling it away, he tossed it up onto the top of the hay and returned his hand to the warm, soft globe of her breast, caressing and squeezing it gently.

"Your nipple is hard," he murmured against her mouth.

"Mmmm … that's supposed to happen," she mumbled back. "I'll bet yours are, too. Or does that not happen with Vulcans?"

"It does, although I have rarely experienced it." He moved his face down so that he was nibbling and sucking at her throat.

"Oh, don't!" she cried softly, but nevertheless lifting her head to give him greater access. "You're going to give me a hickey! It will show!"

"A hickey? What is that?" He continued to suckle at her skin, running the tip of his tongue over the spot.

"You know what it is," she answered. "A mark, where the capillaries are broken under the skin. What will I say when we get back to the ship?"

"You can run a dermal regenerator over it," Spock replied, continuing his work. "No one will know."

"Hmmm … perhaps I should give you one, as well." She chuckled, then sighed. "Do Vulcans give each other hickeys?"

"No. It is illogical to damage the skin that way."

"But you're damaging mine."

"So I am," he purred. "In that case, I shall stop." He moved back to her lips and they resumed their oral exploration. Meanwhile, he continued to massage her breasts, moving from one to the other, lightly pinching and pulling at her nipples until they were both high and hard.

In response, she slid her hand up his chest, brushing her fingers through the dark hair and searching out the small areoles hidden there. When she lightly twisted the stiff male nipple, he flinched back.

"Sorry. Are you ticklish?"

"I am not, but I have never been touched that way," he answered. "Vulcans do not generally indulge in foreplay in that manner."

"Oh, then what I'm about to do will be a surprise." Christine grinned and ducked her head, moving down his chest until she found where her fingertips were moving in a circle. Then abruptly she latched onto one of his nipples and began to suck hard, wriggling her tongue against the nub of flesh.

Spock gave a startled cry and jerked back. // ** _!!!_** // The telepathic jolt that he sent her was unspoken but clear in its meaning. And his body responded at the same time with an emphatic jerk of his erection against her groin.

Looking up, Christine stared back at him. Even in the darkness, his face showed the sexual excitement and startled expression that he felt. 

"Is that a yes or a no?" the woman asked, trying to read his thoughts.

"I … I believe that was a definite 'yes'," he gulped, trying to bring himself back under control.

"Then I guess we should proceed," she smiled and drew away from him to reach down and push off her black underwear, tossing it up on top of the hay where her bra lay. Spock hesitated only slightly and took off his briefs as well. His heart pounded as he disposed of them and pulled Christine back into his embrace, their bodies fully coming together now.

Sighing, she moved her hand down and found his long hard shaft, gently stroking him from top to bottom and back. "You can touch me, too," she whispered.

For a second, he hesitated then slipped his fingers down between her legs, finding her soft moist lips. Their mouths together again, both of them stimulated the other with touch and strokes. He moved his fingers deeper and found her opening, teasing her as he dipped into her wetness. His own lubrication seeped from the tip of his penis and she slicked it over his shaft.

Christine moved her leg over his thigh and pressed her mound against his heat, guiding the head to her threshold. It was time and, without further words, Spock quickly rolled her onto her back in the straw, positioning himself atop her and between her spread legs.

He paused for a second and said, "I will endeavor not to hurt you."

"Oh, you couldn't! Now! Please!"

He gathered himself and gave a hard lunge into her. Christine cried out and arched her back to receive him, digging her nails into his shoulder blades. For another second, he froze, his whole body quivering at the sensation of his entry, then he began to move, rhythmically shoving his pelvis against hers, each time going as deep as he could reach.

They settled into a steady pulse of thrust and withdrawal. She reflected that, although she had seen him naked before, she had no idea how immense he would feel fully engorged and inside her. Sure enough, his body heat had increased as well and she felt sweat – hers or his, she couldn't tell – rolling down her sides. She began to gasp as she felt herself building to a full climax, her body tightening around his pulsing virility.

Spock was feeling it, too, and picked up his driving lunges until he felt he was aflame. It was almost like the _plak tow_ , although the accompanying madness was not there. Still, his blood burned for her and he found himself wanting to meld into her mind, to join with her at the visceral level of full bonding. With an effort, he resisted this instinctual move and instead concentrated on what his body was doing.

His muscles tightened and trembled, blood pounding through his veins, heart thumping against his side, breath rasping in and out of his lungs, and when his scrotum clenched against his groin in near agony, he knew that he could hold out no longer. "Now!" he said through gritted teeth and slammed himself into her hot depths with all his might.

The blast of heated liquid shoved Christine over the top as well. Crying out, she dug in her nails into his tense back and pulled him against her. For a long moment, both felt the pulsing eruption of release and joined in the ecstatic heights of orgasm.

Then they relaxed, still joined and pressed together. "Oh, my god," Christine said at last, her eyes shut and her lungs still breathless in the aftermath. "Oh, that was good!"

"Indeed," he mumbled back, laying his head against her neck. "I had no idea."

Both were silent for a few minutes then she observed, "You're still hard. Is that usual?"

"Yes ... when a male has found his mate." Spock's voice was almost a growl. She felt him throb inside her and he shifted back into position. "Again," he ground out and simultaneously hefted himself back fully into her.

It was even better the second time. All of Spock's Vulcan passion was expended this time, a fully aroused male claiming his prize. He pounded into her with such force that he lifted her off the ground with each impact. Even that did not seem to satisfy him, for he slipped his hands underneath her buttocks and raised her into a position of maximum penetration. All Christine could do was hang on and ride it out. Orgasm after orgasm tore through her, then finally, he gave a deep, guttural rumble and exploded into her depths again, his hips quivering in intense shuddering spasms as he emptied his essence against her womb.

And then he was spent, collapsing atop her and losing his fight with consciousness. Christine sighed deeply and stroked his wet hair. Their straw cocoon was indeed warmer, filled with the body heat they had generated and which would see them through the night.

* * *

_beep … beep …_

Spock scrambled upright from the nest of hay and grabbed for his pants. The communicator stuck to the waistband signaled again and this time he was able to snatch it from its resting place and flip it open.

"Spock here," he said in a surprisingly steady voice.

"Palmer here, sir," answered back the third shift communications officer. "The ion storm has cleared enough that we can beam you and Lt. Chapel back aboard. We have only just come back into orbit and the Captain wants to leave before the storm reforms."

"We shall be ready within a few minutes, Lieutenant. I will call when we are prepared for beam out."

"Acknowledged. Palmer out."

Christine was sitting up, rubbing a hand across her face. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Oh four three eight," the first officer answered precisely. "We have been asleep for nine point eight hours. I trust you rested well."

He stood up with his back to her and retrieved his briefs, donning them quickly before turning to face her. He handed her underwear to her and then turned away again. "Please dress yourself quickly, Miss Chapel. I do not wish to remain here any longer than necessary."

Christine paused in pulling on her underpants and reaching up behind her to fasten her breast support. "That's it?' she asked. "Nothing about what happened last night?"

"What is there to say?" he answered coolly. "Our activities served their purpose." He pulled on his trousers and tucked his black t-shirt into the waistband. Then he quickly got into his boot stockings and donned his boots.

With a heavy sigh, Christine managed to get into her tights, shorts and boots, then bent to retrieve her uniform. It was still damp and clammy but she put it on anyway, sealing the shoulder seam. Spock had pulled his blue tunic over his head and tugged it into place. Now he was checking his tricorder and phaser, his back to the nurse.

"Come here," she said, moving toward him. "Bend down."

The Vulcan peered at her curiously but she only reached up to dislodge strands of hay from his black locks. Smoothing down his hair, she stepped back. "There. Do I have hay in my hair, too?"

"Yes." He reached up and picked out a number of stalks and leaves from her disheveled hair. "I believe I have gotten it all but you may have more than I missed."

"It's okay." Her eyes were turned downward. "I'm going to take a shower and change my uniform as soon as we get back aboard."

"As will I." He nodded toward the specimen bag lying on the floor. "Do not forget that."

"No, I won't." She bent to retrieve the bag and slung the strap across her shoulder. "Did we miss anything?" He indicated that they had everything with them. Then Christine stopped him from opening the communicator and gazed up into his face.

"Spock … did it really mean nothing to you?" she queried. "I felt what you were feeling, you know. I know that you referred to me as your mate. Was that a lie?"

"Vulcans do not lie--" he responded automatically.

"Prevaricate. Dissemble. Hedge. Evade. Call it what you like." Her blue eyes were burning, both with tears and anger. "What we did last night was not just play acting. I always thought you were a scrupulously honest man, Spock. Before we go back to the ship, I want to know the truth. Did our actions have any meaning for you?"

He stood stiffly for a minute, then seemed to wilt a little. "Yes, Christine, it did. I have never had an experience like that before. I have had intercourse with other women, but nothing like the intensity I felt last night. I believe that we should discuss this further, but we do not have the luxury of doing so at this moment. The Captain is awaiting our call for beam out."

She faced forward and ran a quick hand over her face, clearing away the tears. "Okay. Later."

Spock flipped open the communicator and announced, "Spock to _Enterprise_. Two to beam up."

As he reached around to press the device into its place on his waistband and before the transporter beam took them, he said, "Perhaps I might come to your cabin tonight and we can discuss ways to … generate body heat."

Christine whipped her head around to gaze at him in wonder and the two dissolved in the familiar tingle of the transporter, leaving the barn and the sheep-like animals alone once more.

THE END


End file.
